


Jon/Robb Drabbles

by TheCookieOfDoom



Series: Prompt Fills [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-10-12 08:22:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10486437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: Because the fandom needs more little stories, and I have way too manylatest chapter: Robb loves that Jon is a bit shorter than him. His head tucks perfectly into Robb's neck, and he has to tip his head up to kiss.





	1. Chapter 1

“Did it hurt?”

Jon rolled his eyes with a long suffering sigh. He had heard this particular pick-up line more than he cared to think about, and by now he was so tired of it. “Let me guess, when I fell from heaven?”

“No.”

Jon rose a brow at the blue-eyed man before him, waiting expectantly to hear what the variation would be this time. Robb only grinned at him.

“Did it hurt when you fell for me?”

“… I’m breaking up with you.”

"I love you, too."


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re not right for each other,” Theon spat, venom in his words. “Everyone can see that, so why can’t you?”

“I don’t care what everyone else sees, only what Robb and I do. And we’re too busy with each other to be bothered with your petty jealousy.” Theon spluttered, as if unable to believe Jon had dared to speak to him in such a way.

“Jealous? What do I possibly have to be jealous of?”

“You always have been, Theon. Ever since I met you, you’ve been jealous that Robb wants me more than you. Why else would you try so desperately to get between us every chance you get?”

“I’m not jealous, bastard.” He knew by the look Jon gave him that Jon didn’t believe him.

“Whatever you say, Theon.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jon looked around the room as he was proclaimed “King in the North,” and “the White Wolf,”. He could only hope he was fit for the role, that he didn’t make the same mistakes as the last northern king. Standing behind him and Sansa, unbeknownst to anyone else in the room, stood a ghostly figure. The visage of death, with a storm in his eyes. Looking around the room as well, he snorted, before leaning down by Jon’s right side.

“It may seem like all is going well now, but trust me, this will all go to hell if you’re not careful. Speaking from experience, of course.”

Jon caught sight of a familiar smirk out of the corner of his eye, and he had to force himself not to react. If the behavior of everyone around him was anything to go by, they couldn’t see who was next to him, and the last thing he wanted was for them to think he’d gone mad. He excused himself as soon as he could, and the ghost followed him outside, still with that damn smirk. How a ghost could be so smug, he would never know. Didn’t the fool realize he was dead?

“Have I gone mad?” Jon asked, after verifying he was indeed alone.

“Who knows? Probably. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. You might want to hide your crazy, though, lest you be executed; I wouldn’t recommend dying, it’s not very fun.”

“Really?” Jon looked at him, aghast. “You would really say that to me, of all people?”

“You’re right, I suppose that was insensitive of me.”

“Well, you always were a prick. What the hell are you doing here, Robb?”

“Oh you know, haunting you. I’ve got nothing better to do than make sure you don’t die.”

“Why?”

“Because of what happened today. There always needs to be a Stark in Winterfell, and it was always you I wanted to rule after I fell.” He paused, as if unsure if he should continue. Of course, he had never been one to hold his tongue, so he did. “And, well, you’re a bit of an idiot. Do you know how many times you would have died if not for me?”

“I can guess.”

Robb sighed, reaching out to put his hand on Jon’s shoulder. He barely felt it, like a wisp of wind. “No, dear brother. You _really_ can’t. Like I said, you’re an idiot, and suicidally prone to stupid decisions.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern/High School AU, they're doing Soccer

“Are you alright?” Robb asked, rushing to Jon’s side when the teen collapsed with a cry of pain. Jon was shaking his head, blinking back tears. A crowd was gathering around him, their classmates. Coach Roderik came pushing past the students to see how Jon was doing, before scoffing.

“Get off your arse, Snow, you’re fine,” he barked, before ordering the other students to get back into position so that they could resume the match. Reluctantly, they did, all except Robb. Instead he carefully took off Jon’s cleat and pulled down his sock, ignoring as the other hissed in pain, and saw that his ankle was already swelling.

“I don’t think that counts as ‘fine’, sir,” he said, looking up at the coach.

“I think I sprained it when I slipped,” Jon said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing into a glare. He was facing Roderik, but his eyes were on Theon who stood just behind him, grinning smugly.

“You need to work on your footwork, Snow,” he said. Jon clenched his jaw, but didn’t say anything in response; his footwork was fine, Theon was just a cheating prick. If he hadn’t stomped on Jon’s ankle to get the ball away from him, this wouldn’t have happened.

Coach Roderik crouched down to inspect Jon’s ankle, before sighing. “Come on, boy. Get up and get yourself to the nurse so she can take a look at that.” Robb stood and helped Jon up, but as soon as Jon took a step and put weight on his injured foot, he almost collapsed again. He would have, if not for Robb standing right there to catch him.

“I can’t walk, sir,” Jon said, his features pale and voice shaking with the pain he was trying his best to hide.

“I can carry him?” Robb suggested, picking Jon up when Roderik nodded his approval and waved them off. Jon blushed faintly, wrapping his arms around Robb as the other carried him off the field.

“Stop squirming, you’re making this difficult,” Robb huffed when Jon wouldn’t stop shifting. Jon apologized, trying to keep still.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he finally said after a few minutes of silence.

“You’re lighter than I expected. Honestly, have you got any meat on your bones?” Robb teased, and Jon’s blush returned in full force. “My name is Robb, by the way.”

“I know. You’re Theon’s friend.”

“Do I get the pleasure of knowing your name?”

“It’s Jon.”

“Lovely to meet you. Sadly, this is where I leave you, Jon. Try not to get yourself injured while I’m not around to save you,” he said cheekily, carefully setting Jon down now that they were finally at the nurse’s office.

“Yeah. Uh, thanks for carrying me all the way over here.”

“No problem. I’ll take any excuse to get away from class. I’ll see you later.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern/Highschool AU  
> Separate from the previous hs au

“I’ll bet you 20 bucks that you won’t go up to a random underclassman and ask them to prom,” Theon challenged. Robb looked up from his book, chuckling.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Are you afraid of rejection?”

“No?”

“Then why not do it?”  

Robb rolled his eyes, closing his textbook and putting down his pencil. “Fine. I’ll ask… her.” He got up to go over, but Theon grabbed his arm to stop him. By his smile, Robb knew he wouldn’t like whatever he was about to say.

“No, not her. Go ask _him_.”

“You said someone random.”

“Yes. Someone I randomly pick, and I pick him.” Robb looked in the direction Theon was gesturing, and saw a blob of black fabric piled against the trunk of a tree.

“Really?”

“Yep. He’s a sophomore, just transferred here; have fun.” Robb took the twenty Theon held out to him and pocketed it, before heading over. He put on his most charming smile as he crouched down in front of the person, poking at his shoulder to get his attention. The boy lifted his head, scowling, and Robb was met with his pretty brown eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked, taking out one of his earbuds.

“Uh… I wanted to ask if you want to go to prom with me?” That only made the boy scowl even more, but Robb’s attention was more on his pouty lips.

“Who put you up to this?”

“What?” Robb asked, looking back up to meet his eyes.

“I said, who put you up to this?”

“Oh, well, I kind of made a bet with my friend Theon, but –hey wait!” he said when the boy rolled his eyes and went to put his ear bud back in and ignore Robb. He hesitated, looking at Robb questioningly.

“What?”

“Yes he put me up to it, but that doesn’t invalidate the question. You’re pretty cute, I’d like to have you as my date.”

“… Fine.”

“Great! Here, let me give you my number.” Still scowling, and frankly unable to believe Robb was actually serious, Jon handed over his phone and took Robb’s to put his own number in. “I’ll text you later,” he promised, standing back up to walk back to Theon. Almost immediately after he sat down, his phone chimed with a text.

“Bloody hell, did he actually say yes?” Theon asked, eyes wide as he looked from Jon to Robb. Robb, grinning, shook his head and turned his phone for Theon to see.

“Actually, he says fuck off.”

[text: Jon] Tell your friend to fuck off for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hs Jon would be such a little emo bird, lbr here. 
> 
> I am always accepting prompts for short stories, and there's always a chance of theme evolving into longer stories.


	6. Chapter 6

“How’s life abroad treating you?”

“It’s _great_. Aside from, you know, me almost killing myself.”

“Oh no, what did you do?”

“Slipped on some ice and fell down a very steep, very long street like an idiot. You must really miss me, huh?” Jon said with a laugh, picking up his laptop to move from his desk to his bed and lay down, mirroring Robb. It was getting late, but it was always a silent competition to them to see who would go the longest before finally giving in to sleep. On his screen, after he was settled down on his side, he saw Robb giving him a wistful smile.

“Yeah, I do.” Jon’s heart fell at the sadness he saw in Robb’s eyes, his own smile fading away.

“You can always come see me, you know. Maybe over the weekend, some time.” He was only a few hours south of Robb, in England. It would be a long drive, but it could easily be done. He knew what the answer would be as soon as he saw Robb’s smile fall.

“You know mother and father would never let me.”

“You don’t have to tell them.”

“What, and sneak away?”

“No, just make up an excuse. Say you’re going somewhere with Theon, or something, I don’t know.”

“I’m a terrible liar, they would see right through me.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right…”

“I can try. I’ll leave next Friday,” he promised, and Jon answered him with a smile.

“I’ll see you next week, then.”

They continued to talk well into the night; about school, about how things had been since Jon had been sent away, about what they would do when they saw each other again. It was another two hours before Jon finally gave in to sleep. Robb watched him for a few minutes, admiring him; he looked so peaceful. After typing a short message for Jon to wake up to, he signed off Skype to go to bed as well.

_[Robb Stark:] I love you._

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sudden random idea of Jon having Targaryean hair because I thought that would be cool.

“What is this stuff? We do we always have to put it in my hair?” Jon said, protesting. Catelyn hushed him, rubbing the sticky black paste into Jon’s hair and scalp. “It smells funny and it burns,” he said, not quite whining, trying to pull away. She kept him in place with sharp jerk on a lock of curly hair.

For as long as he could remember, they had been doing this. Catelyn would snatch him up and sit him down and slather his hair in that gross black stuff, make him sit and leave it in and not allow him to touch it even though it made him head all itchy. It always left his hair coarse and looking like coal, unlike the other Stark children whose hair was Tully red. Except for Arya, she had dark hair like him. It was brown, though, not black.

And his hair wasn’t supposed to be black either, not really. It was a pretty, silvery white. Well, his roots were anyway, until Catelyn turned his hair black again. The little boy guessed Catelyn just wanted him to have dark hair so that he would look like a Stark. But giving him red hair would make him look like a Tully, like her, and she wouldn’t want that, because he wasn’t a Tully. Maybe _that’s_ why she did this. To punish him for being another woman’s son, as well as coloring her hair in an attempt to not be reminded that he wasn’t hers every time she saw him.

Little Jon, only eight years old, didn’t care why she did it. She just wished she wouldn’t because it was so annoying to have to put the gross stuff in his hair every other week, to hide all traces of silver. He knew that when he left here, he wouldn’t color his hair ever again, he would let it be silver, like Hodor. Hodor was nice, too.


	8. Chapter 8

"Fuck, why is your apartment always so cold," Jon groused, rubbing his hands together, hoping the friction would warm them up. It helped, a little. In his place on the other side of the couch, Robb but back a grin.

  
"Purely to vex you," he joked, holding his arms open. Jon was on him in an instant, eagerly sapping his warmth. Robb couldn't help but shiver when Jon slipped his cold hands under his shirt to press against his skin, earning him a muffled 'serves you right' from Jon. He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Jon, rubbing at his back and sides as Jon nuzzled his chest, happily snuggled into him.

  
Jon stayed silent for a few minutes, comfortably wrapped in Robb's warmth and thawing out. Then,

  
"If you want me to cuddle with you, you can ask, you prick," he mumbled. "Freezing me is just cruel."

  
"Maybe. But you're so cute like this." He hid a smile against Jon's hair when the other huffed, k along without needing to look that Jon was probably rolling his eyes.

  
"I hate you."

  
"You love me."

  
"Only because your warm."

  
"I'll take it."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Hogwarts/Goblet of Fire au. I got inspired when I was watching it yesterday.

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

Jon ran to Robb as he lay bleeding out on the ground, dissaperating as soon as he touched him. There were cheers and music as they reappeared at the beginning of the maze, but Jon couldn’t hear any of it as he tore off his shirt, pressing it to Robb’s abdomen in an attempt to stem the bleeding. His other hand was wrapped around Robb’s throat, both shaking. A part of him knew it was futile, Robb was already gone, but, he had to _try_. Even as he felt Robb’s skin go cold, his lips darkening to a bluish hue. He was still, and Jon couldn’t feel his pulse, even with his hand so tight around his throat.

“Robb!” he screamed, shaking him by the shoulders. By now the music had stopped, the crowd of people staring in varying states of confusion, dawning realization, and horror. Someone was trying to pull him away from Robb’s body, but he wouldn’t go, throwing himself down over him.

“No, I won’t leave him!” he said, tears streaming down his face. He cupped Robb’s cheeks in bloodied hands, smearing his parchment white skin in red. Robb’s eyes were still open and staring, empty and devoid of life. “Please come back to me,” he whispered.

“We need to get you both away from here,” the man hissed. When Jon didn’t respond, the man grabbed his shoulder again, dissaperating them. Jon vaguely registered that they were in the infirmary, before succumbing to unconsciousness, disoriented from dissaperating so much in such a short time.

***

Jon stood at the podium, bruised and bandaged, hundreds of students of all ages staring up at him. Some had eyes filled with pity, some with tears, some with none at all. He found himself searching for words and coming up with none, despite knowing what he was meant to say. He was to briefly explain what had happened in that maze between him, Robb, and Ramsay, and then say something inspirational, but he couldn’t think of anything. Not while he was still mourning, and trying to get over the shock of all that had happened.

He hadn’t thought the maze would be that bad. It would be tiring, it would be draining, but within a matter of hours it would be over. He and Robb would go back to how everything was before the tournament had happened, and they would put it all behind them. But then the three of them had all ended up in the center of the maze together, and Ramsay, he’d attacked Robb. Jon hadn’t gotten to him in time, before Ramsay had caught Robb in the abdomen with a concealed dagger and then slit his throat. Without even thinking, Jon had used the killing curse on him. Merlin, he’d _killed_ someone. He was still in shock from it, feeling as if he would be sick every time he thought about it.

Taking a deep breath, Jon tried to speak. “You want to know what happened in that maze. My brother—Robb—he… he…” Jon’s eyes fell on the empty space at the large table to the far right, and a wave of grief immediately fell over him. Tears were brimming in his red-rimmed eyes—he didn’t think it was even possible to weep more than he already had, and yet here he was—as he found himself unable to look away from the place Robb always sat. He could hear one of the professors prompting him, but he just stumbled back, feeling as if he couldn’t stand any longer.

“I’m sorry, I—I can’t,” he said, heading down the great hall between the banquet tables. He dissaperated away before he reached the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the final chapter of Fight To Survive for anyone interested, but for some reason it didn't go to the top of the tag like normal.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bathtub fun ;)

“Bloody hell, what happened to you?” Robb asked, incredulous, as he rubbed his hand lightly up Jon’s left leg, wiping away the bubbles to reveal bruises all over his shin from ankle to knee. Jon lifted his leg, resting his foot on Robb’s shoulder to push him back with a smile. 

“I got in a fight with a baby gate and lost.”

“ _ What _ ?”

He laughed softly at the bewildered look on his lover’s face. “I was babysitting Tormund’s two daughters. Precious little terrors who I adore. And you know those baby gate things? About three feet tall?”

“Yes…?”

“Well in an attempt to walk through one, I got taken out. I couldn’t get the damn thing open, and ended up falling forward, taking it with me. Hurt like a bitch when I landed with both shins and one foot on the bars.” 

“He is beauty, he is grace...”

“Shut up.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to use my favorite wedding ritual from a different story for this. maybe ill write the full story sometime, when I'm in the mood for smut lol

Jon pulled Robb along by the hand, their fingers laced together. He lead him deep into the godswood, to the heartwood tree before which they had married in secret the night before. Their joined hands were still tied together with silk and twine; it had been hard to hide, as they’d gone back to Winterfell, retreating into Jon’s chambers and barring the door against any who would come searching for them. 

They had not needed the fire to warm them as they’d spent the day and night in Jon’s bed together, warmed plenty by their passion and each other’s bodies. It had been a trick to get undressed, with their hands being bound together, Robb’s right to Jon’s left, but they had managed it. 

Now, they returned to the tree, carefully sneaking past the guards in hopes of not being seen, knowing they would be taken from each other. It didn’t matter that they had to keep their marriage secret, it was importantly only that they knew it, and that the gods before whom they swore their oaths knew it. 

Jon drew a knife as they got to the tree, cutting the ties that bound them as they stood beneath blood red leaves. Robb pulled him into a kiss, smiling against his lips with the novelty of young love and a secret, forbidden relationship. He felt like they could do anything, together. Jon kissed back, just as eager and excited as his lover,  _ his husband _ .

“I love you,” he said into the kiss, grinning. Robb settled his hands on Jon’s waist, kissing him again, then once more, before lifting him up so the Jon could reach the tree limb hanging above them, just out of reach. He tied the braided twine and silk around the limb, amongst so many other similar ties. One day, a century or a millennia from now, when they were nothing more than bone dust, the twine and ribbon would be a part of the tree. 

He laughed as he felt Robb kissing at his stomach, before finally putting him back down. “I can’t believe we’ve actually done this,” Robb said, cupping his cheeks, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon.

“Neither can I, but we have.” 

“Gods, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. Now let’s get back, I believe we have some things to attend to before the sun rises.”

Robb grinned and kissed Jon again, before taking his hand and all but dragging him back to Winterfell so that they could again lock themselves in Jon’s chambers well past the sunrise. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> demon Jon, yo.

“Do you go out of your way to annoy everyone, or am I special?”

“You’re special, darling,” Jon said, smiling. He was bobbing in the air, hovering above Robb as his leathery wings beat gently to keep him up.

“What do you want from me, beast?” 

“Your cock, mostly. But I’ll take your soul, too, if you aren’t careful.” His lips curled up in a feral grin, the sharp tip of his tail dragging over Robb’s cheek in a mockery of a lover’s caress. 

Robb grabbed the tail and snatched it away from his face, before giving it a good yank. Jon yelped, falling the few feet to land on his ass. He scowled up at Robb, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand and pulling his tail back with the other. “Careful with that.” 

“Don’t touch me, I won’t touch you.” 

“Oh, but you see,” Jon purred, standing one more. He straddled Robb’s lap, wings folded around them to keep Robb from looking at anything but him. He leaned down, nipping at Robb’s ear, before murmuring, “I want you to touch me.”

Robb’s hands found their place on Jon’s hips, fitting perfectly as if they were meant to be there. He looked up at the demon, could see the spark in his eye when Jon thought he was actually considering it. There was hunger in his eyes as well. More than lust, he was starving. And Robb was depriving him. He decided to take pity on the demon, knowing he couldn’t leave and simply find someone else to sustain him until his contract was fulfilled. If only Robb had signed the contract, he could break it. 

“You can’t have my soul,” he said, Jon looking at him in amusement and playing with his auburn curls. 

“I won’t have your soul,” Jon agreed, and Robb pulled him into a kiss. Immediately, he could feel the drain on his energy as Jon tangled his hands in his hair, kissing back hard. He didn’t pull back until Robb’s lungs were burning, his eyes glowing purple when he did. He hummed happily, his tail swaying behind him like that of a content cat. 

“Was that enough for you?” Robb asked, panting just a bit. His head was spinning, and he felt as if he were on a boat, despite knowing he was sitting on a chair in his home. 

“Enough to take the edge off,” Jon said, biting his bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood to keep himself from kissing Robb again. It would be easier, if he didn’t have the kind of mouth that was just begging to be ravaged. He caressed Robb’s cheek, dragging his thumb over his bottom lip. “Thank you.” 

“I think I cut my tongue on one of your fangs,” Robb said, disgruntled. Jon smiled, holding back  laugh. 

“Sorry, I should have been more careful. But…” 

“I know. I won’t… keep you waiting so long. Next time.” 

Jon hummed again, and Robb soon found himself with a content demon curled up next to him on the couch, head resting his in lap. It was almost adorable the way he had his wings folded over his body like a blanket. Resigned to his position of acting as the demon’s pillow, Robb buried his hand in Jon’s hair, stroking his fingers through the soft strands. He felt something hard, and when he moved Jon's hair, he found one smooth, black horn. How he hadn’t noticed the other’s horns before, he didn’t know. He thought they were cute, small and mostly hidden in his unruly curls. 

Who would have ever thought he’d one day find himself calling a demon cute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might make a full fic/mini series of drabbles out of this, idk. But I like the idea of demon jon xD


	13. Chapter 13

"You should come party with us wildlings," Jon said, running his fingers through Robb's hair. "I'm sure you'd have more fun than those dull work gatherings your father likes to call parties."

Robb smiled up at Jon from where he lay with his head in the others lap. "I'm sure I would. I'm also sure I wouldn't be able to leave bed for days, if I could even drag myself off the floor long enough to get into it." Jon snorted and Robb smacked at his leg lightly. "Don't give me that, I've seen you after. You're entirely intolerable."

Jon tugged on a lock of his hair, grinning down at Robb. "I promise I'll protect you from the big bad wildlings," he teased.

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious. You definitely need protecting. I mean, this one night I completely blacked out, woke up in India with a heard of goats and found out I'd married some poor man who thought I was a woman," he said, snickering. Robb didn't appreciate the mocking.

Rob sat up, rolling his eyes as he move to his side of the couch. "You're a prick, you know that?"

"Mhm." Jon moved to sit on Robb's lap, arms draped loosely over his shoulders. "Honestly, it won't kill you to come spend a night with us, I promise. Have a few drinks of something that isn't father's whiskey or cheap cocktails."

"Fine. But if I end up with any tattoos, piercings, or any other modifications to my body, I will beat your ass."

"That was one time and I was sober for it. Mostly."

Robb's hands found their place on Jon's hips, then soon under his shirt to trace over the ink etched permanently into his skin. He didn't even mention the numerous piercings he had as well. "Yeah, and which one of these was that 'one time'?"

"Okay it was a few times, but that's beside the point."

"I'm sure it is," Robb said, laughing until Jon silenced him with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small part of something big I'm working on. Idk if I'll fit this scene in tho, which is why I'm putting it here!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for this prompt: Robb knows his eyes are amazing, but Jon's are something else. It's too easy to get lost in those dark pools.

Robb was no fool; he knew how he looked, how gorgeous he was. He knew that when he had all of the pretty girls of Winterfell swooning over him, it was only because he was the heir to the North. With his cold blue eyes--that still managed to be warm, like ice cracking in the sunlight--that contrasted beautifully with his flaming, Tully-auburn hair, and such a kissable mouth, he was a sight to behold. His good-looks, boyish with just enough ruggedness, were devastating. 

He wasn’t vain about it, however, not like other lords were. The ones that preened themselves constantly, brushing their hair with pretty enameled and jeweled combs, dabbing themselves with perfume and draping themselves in delicate finery so that others would preen over them, worship the ground they walked on it. No, Robb may be half Southron, but there was too much of the North in him for that. More than half the time, his unruly curls never saw a brush. He saw no point in delicate smelling perfumes, preferring to buy those for Sansa than himself. And the North was much too cold for delicate silks and lace.

Yes, he was a true barbarian lordling every sense of the word, clad in leathers and fur, compared to his Southron counterparts. 

He was not the only pretty thing hidden away in the North, however. Many hailed Sansa as the true gem; and she was indeed beautiful, the prettiest girl in the cold wasteland of the north. But no, the true beauty didn’t even know it was him, believing, as everyone else did, that it was Robb or Sansa. 

Jon didn’t know how to take a compliment. Couldn’t, not even to save his life. Robb saw the way he tensed, shrugged it off, or even completely denied it whenever pretty girls or wizened mothers tried to compliment him. It made Robb’s heart ache to see that Jon was blind to what was there, unable to see what Robb saw. 

His hair was like the black of night, flakes of snow catching in the soft strands like stars in the sky. His skin was pale and soft, like the snow he was named for; not that Robb would ever put voice to such a thought, he wasn’t so cruel. 

And his  _ eyes _ . If Robb’s eyes were ice cracking under the warmth of the summer sun, then Jon's were the earth that had weathered the harsh, unforgiving winter. Cold and hard, dark with melting snow. When the sun lit them, his irises were like the bark of trees, light veins running through them like flecks of honey. In the firelight, his eyes were like gold and burning embers and amber, unspeakably precious. Robb could get lost in them forever, if Jon would let him. 

When they lay together in the silent night, barely breathing for fear of being caught, Jon’s eyes looked like  _ home _ . 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Robb loves that Jon is a bit shorter than him. His head tucks perfectly into Robb's neck, and he has to tip his head up to kiss.

Robb hummed softly along with the music, smiling. He hand one hand in Jon’s, the other on his waist, while Jon’s free arm was draped over his shoulder. They had been dancing, not that Robb thought that this could be considered dancing anymore. More just slightly swaying, a bit of movement to the music that had long since died out, neither of them keeping up with singing along to an imaginary song. 

Jon’s head was tucked neatly against Robb’s neck, and while Robb couldn’t hear it, he could feel Jon humming too, just a bit, smiling against his skin. He may not want to admit it, but Robb knew he loved these little impromptu dances just as much as he did. When they would retreat to one or the others chambers after a night spent reveling, forced to be apart from each other; Robb dancing with the other noble ladies, Jon occasionally talked into attempting to dance with Sansa, or something that was not fit to be called dance with Sansa, when he was willing to incur the wrath of Catelyn. When he wasn’t watching Robb with longing, wishing it was him Robb had his hands on. 

“I love you,” Robb said, softly, when they were finally just standing in the center of the room together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Jon pulled away just enough to look up at him, smiling softly. He was not one for flowery words, but actions spoke loud enough for him when he leaned up to close the space between them, kissing Robb softly. Another thing he loved, was how Jon was just a touch shorter than him. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Canon: Robb comforts Jon after he first learns what "bastard" means

Bastard boy. 

Bastard son. 

Ned Stark’s bastard. 

Bastard of Winterfell. 

Jon had been called all of these and more since before he could remember, but while he understood that it was not a good thing, and in fact a very bad thing, he’d never truly understood just the gravity of it. He was just a young boy, after all, and Ned did try to spare him the harsh realities of his life. 

Theon, however, bore no such love or tenderness, and the young boy--only a handful of years older than Jon--was all too happy to explain in horrid detail just what it meant to be a bastard. 

The skinny little boy, only eleven years old, was found crying in the stables almost two hours later by his half-brother. He was hiding in the piles of hay, curled up against the wall, when Robb finally found him, cheeks red and tear-stained He’d heard what Theon had told Jon, when he asked the older boy where his brother went. They were supposed to go for a walk, but Jon was missing. 

He went to sit down by his little brother quietly, arms wrapped around him to hug him tight. Trying to hug a way the hurt the way only young children could. He didn’t speak, having nothing to say. He knew, even at the age of twelve, that there wasn’t anything to say. Nothing would change what Jon was, and how people would always treat him because of it. But he could hug his brother, hold him until he stopped crying and calmed down, and show him that he wasn’t alone. 

He would always have Robb, and Robb would always protect him from anyone that was cruel to him for something he couldn’t control/ 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: pre-slash. Robb watches Jon swimming and wonders if it's normal for him to be so turned on by his cousin's body.

Robb had his eyes downcast as he and Jon stripped out of their clothes. It was a rare warm day, warm enough to go swim in the lake. Of course the water was still freezing, but the warmth of the day was sweltering to the two northerners, so they’d decided to brave it for a little while. It was a good, solid plan; just hop in for a dip for maybe an hour or so, then get out and lay around in the sun, enjoying the nice day. 

He just... hadn’t expected Jon to look so good without his shirt on. He was lean, muscle not quite as bulky as Robb’s but still noticeable. Enough so that Robb wanted to lick the grooves between his muscles. Just the thought of it had a flush rising to his cheeks, and he hoped Jon just attributed it to the sunlight. 

Jon, while normally shy, had no problem getting naked and jumping into the cold water. All shyness was gone around Robb; he knew he didn’t have a reason to be body conscious. Not that he did anyway, no matter what he thought. He was gorgeous. 

“Are you going to join me or not?” Jon called when he surfaced, slicking his wet hair back from his face. Robb mouth was suddenly cottony, and all he could do was nod, finishing taking his clothes off to go and dive into the water. It was shockingly cold, but not enough to dampen the heat in his veins as he looked at Jon, and wondered what it would be like to get naked with him under different circumstances. 

Certainly not something he should be thinking about, but he just couldn’t help it. Jon was just so pretty, it was impossible to not fantasize about him. But Robb was still a young man full of hormones. It was probably completely normal to fantasize about the prettiest person in Winterfell. Even if that person wasn’t a pretty girl...


	18. Chapter 18

Robb pushed Jon away from where he was trying to bandage his thigh, looking at his lover with eyes wide in shock. He was filled with disbelief that Jon would go against him in favor of another. “You’re taking mother’s side?”

“This isn’t about sides—”

“—I can’t believe you! What next, will you lock me in my room like a misbehaving child—?”

“Yes, if that’s what it takes! You could have _died_!” The resounding silence following Jon’s shout was deafening. Robb stared at him, Jon staring right back. He never shouted. He lost his temper plenty, but rarely did he raise his voice quite like that, and especially not to Robb of all people. Not with anything like true anger. But no, it wasn’t anger, it was fear disguised as such. Jon clutched Robb’s shoulders with bloody hands. “You could have died,” he said, softer, “I nearly lost you. If you want to make this about sides, then I’m on whatever side keeps you alive. Can’t you see that?”

Robb watched as Jon’s shoulders fell, bloody hands dropping away from his shoulders. He was looking down, eyes locked on the gory mess of Robb’s thigh, until Robb tilted his head bac up to meet his eyes. “You’re right, I should have listened to you. I needlessly put myself in danger. I’ll try not to do it again,” he said, smiling softly. Jon didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway, before getting back to bandaging Robb’s wounded leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sick and feeling like death, so updates may be delayed. I'll try to write when I can though :')

**Author's Note:**

> This will be my collection of short fics/conversation fics, and pretty much anything I write below 1k words. Feel free to comment with a prompt, I am always accepting any prompts of any kind!


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